


From Days of Yore

by saekokato



Series: Wild Times and Glitter [1]
Category: Bandom: The Academy Is..., Jonas Brothers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-10
Updated: 2010-03-10
Packaged: 2017-10-11 20:28:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/116765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saekokato/pseuds/saekokato
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Breakfast turns into wandering around the grounds together turns into lunch with the rest of the family (littlest Jonas's glares would make Mike bust a gut laughing if Mike wasn't actually behaving himself for once - parental units still do that to him) turns into an elaborate game of hide and seek with portions of Panic, Fall Out Boy and My Chem turns into Kevin pinning Mike against the wall of an empty hallway not too far from the stage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From Days of Yore

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tagalongcookies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tagalongcookies/gifts).



> Written as a pinch hit for [](http://community.livejournal.com/sodamnskippy/profile)[**sodamnskippy**](http://community.livejournal.com/sodamnskippy/)'s Christmas ficathon.

"So." There is a Jonas Brother standing in front of Mike. It has to be a Nick or a Joe, as there isn't a Frank on tour (Jonas, anyway), and Kevin has about as many scarves as Ryan Ross. (Bill believes they breed them in the night, slowly, so that one day they would rise up and take over, first, the tour, and then the world.) Mike has no idea why a Jonas Brother, Nick or Joe, would be standing in front of him.

"So," Not!Kevin repeats. He rocks back on his heels and sticks his hands in the front pockets of his ridiculously tight white jeans. Mike is having a hard time deciding if the pants are more ridiculous because they are so tight (not likely giving the rest of the Decaydance crew) or because they are so _white_.

Mike finally decides on the latter. Because _nothing_ should be that clean this far into a tour.

"Your pants are disturbingly white, young Jonas," Bill intones as he leans over Mike's shoulder to peer intently at said pants. Bill starts to topple sideways, and Mike lazily reaches up to push Bill back on his feet. As funny as it is seeing Bill fall flat on his face, they do have a show to put on in a few hours. The hilarity isn't worth listening to Tony shout at him.

Not!Kevin blinks at Bill. "We did laundry at the last hotel stop."

"Industrious of you, young Jonas," Bill agrees. He pokes at Mike's shoulder. "We should have thought of that." He nods to himself.

Mike rolls his eyes. Bill always takes out his crazy-freak!persona when there are new people around. As hilarious as that can be, after a month and a half of touring, the Jonas Brothers are hardly new people and, frankly, the act does get a tad bit annoying. And Bill has a tendency to take the act too far. "You come over to share your bleaching secrets, kid? Because you really shouldn't feed the lions at the zoo."

"No. The secrets of awesomely not tie-dyed laundry are only known to our mother and Nick," Joe says. "I came over to tell you, against every one of Nick's protests, that Kevin thinks you're hot." He pulls a hand out of his white jeans to gesture at them.

Considering that Bill is leaning on Mike again, the random pointing is about as helpful as, well, Bill had been when they didn't have techs.

"You're going to have to be a little more specific, kid," Mike drawls. He takes a drink of his water – after Mikey had been sent to the med tent earlier that week for dehydration, Gerard had been harping about people staying hydrated. Mike had been singled out on the tail end of one of his rants a couple of days ago. As much as Mike would be able to take Gerard if it came down to that, Mike certainly wouldn't be able to take Toro or Bryar.

Besides, Gerard was known to have a short attention span. Especially when he was working on his comic and touring at the same time. Mike would be able to go back to his normal afternoon beverage choices soon enough.

"Kevin thinks you're hot, Carden." Joe rolls his eyes. "I have no idea what he could possibly be thinking, no offense, but 'dirty rockstar' isn't really his normal."

Mike raises an eyebrow. He hadn't thought his day was going to be this interesting.

"Are you saying that one of you little Jonas Brothers has a crush on _my_ dear guitar player of love?" Bill says. He's frowning now. He stands up straight and grabs a hold of Mike's arm. "I'm sorry, young Jonas, but I must take Mike away from your evil tempting ways."

"My what?" Joe asks. His head is cocked to the side, and he smiles at Bill. It's the exact same look people have when they're watching small baby animals do something ridiculously futile. Like walking in a straight line without falling over.

"I will not allow you to entice Mike into doing something we'd all regret, young Jonas," Bill says. He reaches over and pats Joe consolingly on the shoulder. "You know not what you do, young Jonas, but fear not! I will protect us all."

"Are you serious, Bill?" Mike asks as he's dragged away from what had been his nice, comfortable lounging spot under the only set on trees on the entire lot. Mike had had to fight away both the pot smokers and the artists for that coveted location, and he is loathe to give it up for something as unnecessary as Bill's crazy. "The Jonas Brothers are not demons in disguise; you seriously need to stop believing what you read on the internet."

"Of course I'm serious," Bill scowls at him. "And I know they aren't demons. They're the _Jonas Brothers_ ; they're about as far from demons as one can get. Which is why we must not allow this Kevin's crush on you to come to fruition. I cannot let that destruction lay at your feet."

"What the fuck?" Mike attempts to tug his arm away from Bill, but Bill is as much of a freak in regards to strength as he is in regards to everything else. So Mike finds himself being dragged onto their bus and pushed onto the front lounge couch. "Did you go experimenting with Gabe and Travie again? We've told you, you can't be doing that before shows. You know better."

Bill plants his feet in front of Mike and puts his hands on his hips. That's his lecturer pose. Mike sighs, knowing he isn't going to like this. He shifts on the couch until he finds a better lounging position. If he's going to have to listen to Bill, he's going to be comfortable doing it.

"Mike, I need you to be serious for a moment." Not likely. Bill should know that the lecturer pose really only works on people who have never seen him both drunk and high off of pixie sticks. "You have to stay away from the Jonas Brothers."

Mike raises an eyebrow. He honestly doesn't see what the problem is. So Kevin of the Thousand Scarves thinks he's hot. Mike might not be material for America's Hottest 100 Men or anything but that doesn't mean the kid is wrong. Besides, it's sort of cute in a ridiculous Disney way.

"No, Carden. Whatever is going through your little mind, no," Bill says. He shakes a finger at Mike. "The Jonas Brothers are pure beings, like babies and puppies and fucking unicorns! You can't take that purity away from them. Bad things will happen if you do that, Mike. Bad things. End of the world type bad things."

"Bill, the apocalypse is not going to come about if I just so happen to hang around with the Jonas Brothers." And Bill wants Mike to take this seriously? "Do we need to start regulating your crazy consumption?"

Bill narrows his eyes at Mike. "Are you not being serious about this, Michael?"

One day Mike will tell Bill that he looks like a kid playing dress up when he tries to look intimidating. Or like a Chihuahua growling down a Great Dane. Today is not that day.

"The kid has a passing fancy, Bill. Sometime tomorrow Ross will wave a sparkly scarf in his direction, and he'll have something else to fixate on. If his brother wasn't pulling some sort of prank. You ever think of that?"

Bill's eyes widen, and he clutches at his chest, every inch the picture of a wounded Victorian lady. Mike would be more impressed if he hadn't seen Bill pull the same routine over something stupid like Siska eating the last of the Lucky Charms. "The Jonas Brothers do not lie! You take that back, you scoundrel!"

Mike frowns. "Bill, you are way too invested in the Disney propaganda." He wonders where the rest of the guys are, or, fuck, anyone else for that matter. Bill really needs someone to distract him from this latest flight of fancy. He looks around the lounge with the futile hope that someone - anyone - would hop out of the woodwork.

Bill walks forward until he can poke Mike square in the chest. "Mark my words, Michael Carden," Bill says. "You better not be implying bad things about those brothers. They are good, pure beings, a fact that I thought I had already made perfectly clear, and you will do nothing to sully their good names! Do you understand me?"

Mike knows that there are times when he will never understand Bill, and those are times when it is best to just let him go his own way. This is clearly one of those times. "Sure, Bill. The Jonas Brothers are virginal and pure unicorns from days of yore. I've got it," he sighs.

Bill narrows his eyes but he seems willing to let Mike go for now. "Good. But I have my eye on you, Carden. Remember that!"

"Sure thing, Bill. Whatever you say." Mike stands up and brushes past Bill for the bunks. He might as well take advantage of the lack of people to grab a nap.

|-|

His nap goes well enough. If he doesn't think about the way Bill spent the entire time glaring at Mike's closed bunk curtain, thus insuring that Mike didn't get any sleep. As much as Mike loves the guy, his best friend can be a disgusting fucking creeper when he puts his mind to it.

Thankfully, the show goes even better. Whatever had crawled into Bill's system when Joe had done his duty as an annoying little brother is not available for comment during the length of time it takes them to gather backstage straight through the always-worth-it-but-more-than-occasionally-annoying task of meeting with fans.

Mike thinks he feels Bill's creeper eyes watching him when he turns down Chislett's invitation to have his ass kicked at drunken Sorry!, but the Butcher distracts Bill long enough for Mike to escape to his bunk and fall asleep.

|-|

When Mike wakes up, they're parked at the next venue and everyone else is still passed out over various surfaces. Mike swaps out his t-shirt for a vaguely cleaner one (in that it doesn't smell like rotting water buffalo carcass) and climbs over four bodies before leaving the bus.

The sun is shining, the cicadas are buzzing, and the only people out and about are the manager-types and the Jonas camp. Mike grins as he slides his sunglasses firmly over his eyes. There are advantages to this waking up early bullshit.

|-|

"So, Jonas," Mike says as he slides up to where Kevin (the plethora of scarves confirms this observation) is making a cup of nasty catering coffee. "Word around the buses says you think I'm hot."

Kevin starts but not enough to spill his coffee. He stirs in another spoonful of sugar before taking a sip. "And by 'around the buses' you mean Joe opened his mouth." He raises an eyebrow at Mike.

"Yes," Mike says. His smile widens when Kevin doesn't continue. "You aren't denying it."

Kevin shrugs. He steps away from the coffee dispensers to pick up a plate, which he loads with a bagel and some fruit. Mike hadn't even realized that real food was served before noon. Either the Jonas Brothers merit the extra perks or Mike needs to wake up earlier in the day more often.

"I didn't peg you for the type who needed constant reassurance."

Mike's smile turns the edge into a smirk. Kid has more bite than Mike had given him credit for. Mike wonders what other Disney-fueled assumptions he's been living under. "Just making conversation, kid." He helps himself to a cup of coffee. His eyes widen a bit when he realizes it doesn't taste like the burnt shit he's been drinking all tour. He really did need to wake up earlier, if only for the coffee.

Kevin cocks both his head and hip to the side and just watches Mike. Mike stares back, taking a larger sip of his coffee. After a minute, Mike reaches up and lowers his sunglasses a little so Kevin can actually see his eyes. He doesn't know if it was the action or whatever Kevin sees that makes up his mind for him but Mike doesn't really care. Either way Kevin invites him to eat breakfast with him. That is something Mike is willing to call a win.

|-|

Breakfast turns into wandering around the grounds together turns into lunch with the rest of the family (littlest Jonas's glares would make Mike bust a gut laughing if Mike wasn't actually behaving himself for once - parental units still occasionally do that to him) turns into an elaborate game of hide and seek with portions of Panic, Fall Out Boy and My Chem turns into Kevin pinning Mike against the wall of an empty hallway not too far from the stage.

Whoa, had Bill ever been wrong about this particular Jonas's innocence. Anyone who uses his tongue like _that_ and slides his hands down the back of Mike's pants and boxers without so much of a by your leave is most definitely not innocent.

Mike wraps one hand around Kevin's hip and uses the other one to bury into Kevin's hair and tilt his head a little to the side so Mike can give back as good as he's given. Kevin makes a noise that Mike's pretty certain shouldn't ever be made in public places, not if the kid wants to survive unmolested, and Mike's thoughts are permanently redirected straight into the gutter when Kevin is squeezes his ass. Mike doesn't give a damn about where they are - he's had _sex_ in more public places - he's too busy trying to find all the ways to make Kevin make that noise again without undressing the kid.

"Look, Beckett, I don't know what you're talking about. Carden's behaved himself all day. Our _mother_ approves of him." Nick's voice carries itself around the corner moments before Nick and Bill themselves do.

Mike and Kevin both hear them but Mike doesn't remove his mouth from Kevin's throat and Kevin doesn't remove his hands from Mike's ass. Bill, Nick and being found are pretty much the last things on either of their minds.

|-|

Honestly, Mike hadn't thought the human voice could reach those ranges. At least, not without causing immediate permanent damage.

|-|

Mike's also sure that if Mrs. Jonas had approved of him at any point that day, finding her eldest son with his hands down the back of Mike's pants has completely destroyed that approval.

Awesome.

|-|

The only thing that stops Bill's ranting lecture is the fact that they have to take the stage. However, that doesn't stop Bill from keeping his eyes on Mike for most of the show. Mike just knows the internet rumors are already flying - fucking Twitter - and he's wondering idly how long it'll take Pete to blog about it when Bill plasters himself against Mike's back during Big Mess.

|-|

Bill sleeps in front of Mike's bunk. Mike knew that Bill had still been there when he'd fallen asleep ("You've destroyed unicorns, Carden. _Unicorns_."), but he hadn't expected him to still be there in the morning.

Bill's something of a baby about where he sleeps. It's hilarious but true.

Mike also didn't expect to find the Butcher and Siska curled up together at Bill's feet. If Mike didn't have a headache, a severe need to empty his bladder and find a decent cup of coffee, and if he wasn't, oh, _Mike_ , the sight of the three of them would probably be cute. As it is, Mike is himself, he does have a headache, a severe need to empty his bladder, and he'd kill for a decent cup of coffee. So mostly he just shoves them all out of his way and climbs over them.

When he emerges from the poor excuse for a bathroom, Bill is leaning against the wall across from the door. He has his arms crossed over his chest. Mike leans against the doorjamb and scratches his stomach with a yawn, returning Bill's glare for one of his own.

"I thought we'd reached an agreement, Michael," Bill finally says.

Mike raises an eyebrow. When Bill doesn't bother to say anything else, Mike takes it upon himself to say, "No. You decided. I humored you. There is a difference."

"Hrumph," is Bill's response. He glares for another minute, then he gestures for Mike to move. "Don't disappear; we have an interview in ten."

Mike frowns. "I thought you were doing that with Chislett."

Bill grins at Mike. It isn't a nice one. "Change of plans, my dear Carden. If you won't protect yourself and the innocent, I'll do it for you." He pats Mike on the shoulder. Then he shuts the bathroom door in his face.

|-|

What Bill means by protect Mike and the 'innocent' is that he has apparently collaborated Nick to keep Mike and Kevin as far away from each other as possible. Bill still has some fucked up ideas about Kevin but he isn't about to let Mike change his opinion. And Mike actually tries. It's like trying to talk a brick wall into burning down.

Mike and Bill end up doing every possible interview Bill could get Tony to schedule on short notice. There really aren't all that many, but there are enough to take up the vast majority of the day. Bill is practically glued to Mike's side whenever they aren't actively working. So even when Mike catches a glimpse of Kevin, Bill has himself wrapped all octopus-like around Mike.

Message read, loud and clear.

By the time sound check and the show roll around, Mike is ready to kill someone. And by someone, he means Bill. He's being fairly vocal about it.

"Bill's just a little upset, Mike," Butcher says as he sketches something onto the back of Siska's shoulder. "He'll lose interest soon enough."

Mike glares at the smile Siska throws his way. That it doesn't bother Siska just pisses Mike off more. "But will that be before I kill him?"

Butcher just hums. He and Siska both know Mike won't actually kill Bill. And he isn't all that likely to maim him either. They do have a tour to finish.

It doesn't stop Mike from imagining it. In great, technicolor detail.

|-|

He and Kevin had exchanged phone numbers sometime between lunch and the hide and seek game. Kevin had surprised Mike by being as much like the guy Disney said he was and so completely different. Sure Kevin is sweet tempered and dorky, but underneath the shine is a quick mind and a sharp tongue. Mike had had fun bantering with him about everything from guitars to music genres to which volume of Umbrella Academy they'd liked best. Mike had caught glimpses of the kid throughout the day, and he'd seemed more worn around the edges the longer the day had gone on.

That and the way Bill is _still_ giving him the creeper glare (through the closed curtain yet again) is what has Mike texting the kid from his bunk that night. He asks about Kevin's day, wondering if it'd been anywhere as weird as Mike's own.

The response came faster than Mike expects. He imagines Kevin curled up in his bunk (surrounded by scarves, each more lavish than the last. Mike knows he's going to be disappointed but the mental imagine is hilarious.) and staring at his phone, thinking of texting someone - anyone - to ignore the people around him for just a little while.

It is entirely possible Mike is projecting. Thankfully Kevin replies before Mike can contemplate that too fully.

 _My day, a list: guitar tech has food poisoning, insulted a 12 yrold & there were tears, a screw up w/equipment lost half nicks kit & flaked an interview._ Then, _U?_

 _Shitton of interviews, bill being a creeper & the show. urs sounds worse. _

_Haha._

 _At least ur laughing kid._

 _Just to stop the tears._

Mike has to smile because he can just hear the sarcasm. Scarves aren't the only things Kevin and Ross have in common. _Cheer up emokid. 2morrow anothr day._

 _Don't remind me. Have to go. Nick on patrol. ugh._

 _Night kid. Dont let the littlest eat you._

 _Ha. I'll save that for you._

Mike grins. _U do that._

|-|

A week later, Mike wakes up to Bill in his face. Literally. Mike would shove Bill away but Bill has his hands pinned to his sides. Which was what had woke Mike up.

"Morning, sunshine," Bill says. He's grinning his evil grin again. Mike isn't exactly thrilled. "Sleep well?"

"Bill," Mike says. He takes a deep breath. It doesn't calm him down but it should keep his voice from squeaking again. "Get the fuck off of me."

"In a minute, my dear Carden," Bill says. "First we must have words."

Mike raises an eyebrow. If Bill hadn't been sitting on Mike's legs, Mike would be kicking him in the head. The evil glint in Bill's eyes tells Mike that Bill is very much aware of this fact and he is deeply amused by it.

"You seem rather high strung. Are your dreams troubling you? You can tell your dear Billiam, Mikes. I would be glad to help."

It is way too fucking early in the morning for this shit. "You've gone off the crazy wagon again, Bill."

"Hmm. Perhaps." Bill takes a minute to think about this, then he shrugs his shoulders like it really doesn't matter. Mike takes that minute to remind himself that they don't have a band without a lead singer. It works. Barely. "But that isn't what we are talking about, Mikes. No, we have converged here to speak of the eldest Jonas and his wee bit brothers. Do you know what kind of week they've been having?"

Mike sighs. Bill is fucking lucky he's so damn talented and pretty. Though the pretty is only going to last as long as it takes Mike to free his hands. Then all bets will be off.

"They had a shit week. What do you want me to do about it?"

"What did I try to warn you about, Mikes? Didn't I tell you that the Jonas Brothers are pure beings?" Bill pauses, staring at Mike expectantly.

"Like puppies and babies and unicorns, I remember," Mike says when Bill refuses to continue. His voice may be pleasant but his eyes are anything but. Bill is fucking bony and if Mike is going to be bruised in those spots he'd like to say that he'd had some fun making them.

"Exactly. I warned you that bad things would happen if you messed with that purity, Mikes," Bill says. "Bad, bad, terrible things."

Mike blinks. He stares at Bill. Then he blinks again. Bill can't really be serious. "Bill, you are not being logical about this shit. They had a bad week. It happens to everyone."

Bill lets go of Mike's wrists and climbs out of his bunk unscathed, if only because Mike is too shocked to snap his scrawny neck. Bill reaches back into the bunk and pats Mike's cheek. "Think about what we talked about, Mikes." Then he hightails it out of the bunk area. And off the bus, too, if he has any sense left in his crazy person mind.

|-|

When Mike finally leaves his bunk and climbs off the bus, Bill and the rest of his band is nowhere to be seen. Which means they all have some semblance of a survival instinct left to them. Mike just has to decide if he wants to track them down and kill them now or if he wants to wait and let the sound check do the job for him.

"Your band is playing some sort of outdoor scrabble game with most of Cobra Starship, Gym Class Heroes, and my brothers."

Mike turns his head to look at Kevin, who is leaning his shoulders against the bus close to the door. Outdoor scrabble would explain the sudden lack of people doing all they could to keep them from even looking at each other. "You didn't want in on that action?"

"I'm not much for scrabble. Or for ending up covered in blue paint." Kevin shrugs. The light sparkles off of his purple and glittery scarf. Mike isn't sure if it's blinding because of the light show or because it's a glittery, purple scarf. Either way, the color looks good on the kid. And it totally doesn't hide the almost faded hickey on his neck.

Mike grins. "Yeah, that'd be Gabe's version of outdoor scrabble. If we're lucky, we'll be playing the show tonight with life size Smurfs."

"Joe and Nick have the pants to pull it off," Kevin says. He smiles as he pushes off of the bus to stand next to Mike. "We don't have any chaperones right now."

Mike had noticed. He goes to pull Kevin onto the bus when he has a sudden attack of consciousness. The kid is smiling but he looks more like someone's kicked puppy. The last thing he probably needs is Mike all over him.

Fucking Bill and his stupid fucking crazy infesting everyone around him. Apparently not even Mike is immune to a week's worth of the crazy babbling.

"I also haven't had any coffee," Mike says. He makes sure to keep some space between him and Kevin. "You have any more of that good shit hiding on you?"

Kevin looks puzzled but Mike doesn't think about that. The kid looks like a puppy and that is just wrong. "You just have to be nice to the caterers, and then you too will have delicious coffee."

"You already have them eating out of your hand, kid," Mike points out. "It's too late in the game for me."

Kevin smirks. "Well, when your first impression was you growling at them, I can't really blame them."

"I'm supposed to be nice when they're withholding coffee?"

"If you want coffee, yes." Kevin is laughing at him. It's certainly better than the puzzled puppy look. Not as good as making out on the couch for the rest of the morning, but better than puzzled puppies. "Come on, play nice and I'll make sure you have the best coffee in the land."

"You are my savior," Mike says dryly.

Kevin laughs and leads the way to the catering tent.

|-|

Mike manages to keep things between them relatively PG. Though it isn't for a lack of trying on Kevin's part. Mike knows he's confusing the kid, but how exactly does one explain the crazy that is currently William Beckett? Or Bill's theory that the Kevin and his brothers are like fucking unicorns just waiting to be destroyed by impure actions? Mike has no idea and he really isn't itching to try.

Besides, Mike isn't doing what he's doing because of Bill. Mike is his own man, thank you very much, and he is perfectly capable of making his own decisions. The kid really seems to be in need a friend more than a fuck buddy. It usually isn't Mike's shtick but he's willing to do it for Kevin.

|-|

They avoid their bands for the rest of the day. Neither of them have anywhere to be before their respective sound checks. So they spend the day hanging out, walking around the grounds, and talking about every little thing that comes to mind. Like the insanity that is the Wild Times and Glitter tour.

Mike will never understand how this whole twenty bands, never ending, looping around the country, festival tour actually happened - or how the line up included Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, The Academy Is..., and _the Jonas Brothers_ \- but he's pretty sure Pete is to blame. And possibly Gerard.

"I heard that it was actually Bob and Gabe's idea," Kevin says. They're weaving through the buses and the rest of the tour is just the muted echoes of sound bouncing off of the metal.

"That is completely terrifying," Mike says. He can't think of a single reason for Bob and Gabe to be plotting together that doesn't end with the world exploding. Or with them ruling the world with neon-colored, iron fists.

"That's what I said," Kevin agrees.

|-|

Kevin seems to figure out that Mike isn't about to budge on the topic right about when Vicky-T and Greta spot them. Mike and Kevin are wandering by the Cobra bus when the girls lean out one of the bus windows to leer at them. They offer up some really dirty advice for what Mike and Kevin could be doing. Mike's pretty sure most of their advice isn't even physically possible, but he knows better than to point that out to either of them.

"Did they really just..." Kevin asks after Mike hustles them away. He's blushing and looking a little shell shocked. Vicky-T and Greta have that sort of affect on people. Especially together.

"Yes. Yes, they did." Mike puts his hand on Kevin's shoulder. "Vicky is awesome but dirty, and Greta is not sweet and innocent little girl by a long shot, kid. We try to keep that under wraps as much as possible."

Kevin nods. "Yeah. Good plan, that."

"Come on, kid. I heard there was supposed to be ice cream this afternoon." Mike steers Kevin back in the direction of catering.

"I'm the one who told you that," Kevin points out. But he doesn't protest the change in topic or the fact that Mike is still keeping his hands to himself.

|-|

Catering does in fact have ice cream. Kevin opts for a cone with two scoops of chocolate ice cream and enough sprinkles to choke a horse. Mike opts for a simple one scoop of vanilla. He's pretty thankful for it when he discovers that Kevin's preferred way of eating an ice cream cone? Could give professional porn stars pointers.

"You're staring," Kevin says. He's about halfway through his cone. Mike is trying to decide if he'd be able to live with himself if he jumped Kevin after all when Kevin licks a drip from the bottom of the cone all the way to the sprinkly top. He smirks when Mike's eyes follow the movement.

"You have an interesting way of eating ice cream." Mike smiles around his own cone. Two can play at that game. Mike lets his eyes fall mostly closed as he dips the tip of his tongue inside the lip of the cone, chasing the ice cream inside without bothering to break the cone.

A flush spreads across Kevin's cheeks. He raises an eyebrow at Mike as he wraps his lips around the tip of the cone. Mike can feel a flush of his own spreading as Kevin slowly pulls off. "It gets me by."

"I can see that," Mike says. He's giving serious thought to saying fuck it to being the good guy when a hand falls on his shoulder. He was so focused on Kevin that he damn near flies out of his skin.

"Carden! Jonas! You found ice cream, and you didn't feel the need to share? I'm hurt!" Bill folds himself onto the chair next to Mike and pouts at the two of them. Nick glares at Mike and takes the seat next to Kevin. Kevin rolls his eyes and focuses on his ice cream.

Mike scowls. "Bill, you have lousy fucking timing." Kevin nods his agreement.

Bill chuckles. "I think I have excellent timing, and you should thank me, Michael." He shifts over so he can peer directly into Mike's eyes. "I am just trying to help, after all."

Seriously. A fucking creeper.

Mike pushes Bill away. "Fuck off, Beckett. I'm not interested in your games."

Bill tsks and pats Mike on the shoulder. "So, young Jonas! What have you and my dear Carden been up to today? He has been a gentleman, hasn't he?" Bill leans across the table. Considering Bill is modeled after fucking Gumby, that move puts him close enough to steal some of Kevin's ice cream directly from the cone.

Bill is smart enough to know that would be pushing everyone too far.

Kevin blinks. Then he shifts backwards a little. "We didn't do anything too exciting. Wandered the lot. Talked with Vicky-T and Greta. Had coffee and ice cream." He shrugs. "A lazy day." The bite he takes out of his cone is especially loud in the silence following that remark.

Nick glares some more at Bill and Mike. Mike glares right back, but Bill smiles lazily at Nick. Nick rolls his eyes and punches Kevin in the shoulder. "Come on. Mom and Dad have been looking for you." He stands up and waits impatiently for Kevin to follow.

Kevin looks up at him. "They didn't call." He takes another bite out of his cone.

Nick huffs out a breath and does his best to glare his brother to death. "Kevin. Seriously."

Kevin stares back at Nick and takes another bite out of his cone. He chews slowly, then swallows. "Okay." He stands up and smiles at Mike. "Hey, I had fun. Talk to you later?"

Mike smirks. "Me, too, kid. Later."

Kevin waves over his shoulder as Nick drags him away.

"Shut your mouth," Mike tells Bill. Bill just smiles and hums under his breath.

|-|

 _Im gonna kill them._

The text comes just as Mike is falling asleep. It's the third night in a row that Mike is actually in his bunk and not hanging out with anyone, but Mike doesn't care. Bill wouldn't stop watching him with his his creepy ass stare, which Mike is mostly used to at this point, but it still pisses him off. Everyone else seems to be whispering about _something_ to each other, but every time Mike is within hearing distance, they all clammed up. Mike finally took himself to his bunk when he'd felt the urge to put Siska's head through the wall.

 _Murder isnt the ans kid_ Mike pauses after he sends the text then sends, _Usually._

 _Im talking justifiable homicide._

Mike blinks at his phone for a second, then he's telling his phone to call Kevin's. They've been texting back and forth pretty steadily for the last week but they haven't really called each other. Mostly because Mike knows Bill would steal his phone if he found out. Mike really doesn't want to have to buy another phone because Bill gave his to Siska and Siska accidentally dropped it down a toilet. Or something. Not that that had ever happened or anything.

Anyway, Mike can hear Bill arguing with Chislett about something in the kitchen area, so he figures they're safe enough for now.

The phone rings once, twice, then Kevin says, "Death is the only answer; therefore, I am going to kill them."

"Killing isn't really your scene, kid," Mike says. Mike doesn't think Kevin would go out looking for a drink, or take any that was offered to him - Hurley could learn a thing or two about being comfortably straightedge from Kevin - but the kid sounds like he's been chewing gravel. Mike thinks that's more worrying than Kevin's sudden interest in illegal activities.

Kevin snorts. "That's right. It's yours."

"It's been said a time or two," Mike agrees. "Why don't you let me into that pretty little head of yours? Tell me why you're having these uncharacteristic thoughts."

"You'll just talk me out of it," Kevin says. If he didn't sound so upset, Mike is sure that he'd be pouting. Realistically, he's probably staring at the ceiling of his bunk and plotting out ways to kill whoever he has in mind with one of his thousands of scarves.

"That's the plan," Mike says. Kevin sighs but doesn't say anything else. Mike stares at the ceiling of his own bunk and wonders if it'd be worth trying to wait the kid out. He could, but he'd rather make Kevin talk and maybe laugh, and then Mike could go to sleep without worrying that he'll be dragged in as an accomplice when Kevin's arrested. "Seriously, kid. Keeping this shit bottled up will only result in blood and tears and depressing songs that'll make children cry. Then I'll have Bill trying to kill me."

"Yeah, we wouldn't want that," Kevin says. Mike can hear Kevin digging in his metaphorical heels.

"Out with it, already," he says. "I can't help if you're so determined to keep it all to yourself. I really don't want to have to visit you in prison."

There's a pause. "When was it decided that I'm going to prison?" Kevin asks. "And who says I want you visiting me?"

Mike rolls his eyes. "You do not have the skills to keep yourself out of prison. Case in point: you texted me your intentions to kill. That's what we call a paper trail. If anyone dies, you just made yourself the first suspect. Though visiting you in prison would probably be the highlight of my life, no lie."

"Awesome. I'm so glad to make your life," Kevin says dryly. There's a dull thud in the background, followed by another and another in no semblance of a steady rhythm. Mike wonders which brother Kevin is imagining as he kicks the wall.

"Just the highlights," Mike corrects. "What'd the littlests do this time?"

Kevin snorts. "They really hate it when you call them that."

"I hate that the stupid shit they wear makes my eyeballs bleed but that isn't going to change, so they're just going to have to deal," Mike says. He pokes at a stain on the ceiling that looks like something halfway between a unicorn and a butterfly and barely holds back a sigh. "Kevin, talk to me."

The kicking stops after a particularly loud thud. "Nick. I love my brother, don't get me wrong. He's awesome, most of the time, but if he doesn't stop saying the sh...crap he's been saying. I'm going to beat him to death with Elvis's chew toys," Kevin says. "Add to that my parents just _watching_ everything I do and Joe laughing like a stupid hyena whenever he looks at me. I'm not going to mention the rest of the tour. I'm used to feeling like a bug under the microscope, okay? Totally used to it and it doesn't really bother me all that much anymore, at least not enough for it to matter, but. Fuck. I'm going to kill someone."

Mike blinks at the unicorn-butterfly hybrid. "You should probably stop hanging out with me if you're going to start swearing, kid. It doesn't suit you." He's lying through his teeth like he's never lied before in his life.

There's silence for a moment, then Kevin's laughing. "Okay, I'm having an existential crisis and you focus on that, Carden? What is wrong with you?"

"Well, if you were having an existential crisis, which you're not because that word doesn't mean what you think it does, I'd be more than glad to knock you out of it. What you are having is a more commonly called a bitch fest," Mike says. "Clearing the air. Getting shit off your chest. I am your ever helpful ear to bitch to, and my goals for the evening are to make you laugh, to keep you from killing anyone, because you will regret that shit in the morning, and to come up with a plan of action."

"Looks like you managed the first," Kevin says. "What have you got up your sleeve for the second two?"

"You have any idea why Joe is laughing at you?" Mike asks. Kevin doesn't say anything but Mike can almost hear the sarcasm waiting to spew. "Yes, I'm seriously asking that."

"Joe refuses to tell me anything, Nick turns purple anytime I ask, and I'm not allowed near anyone else." Kevin sighs. "I'm the eldest brother. I figured out how to avoid my parents and brothers and handlers _years_ ago. Either someone sold me out or people are avoiding me. Sounds like you have some ideas of your own."

"People are placing bets and no one wants to be accused of tipping things in any direction," Mike says. It is some sort of weird tour etiquette. No one knows where it came from, but everyone follows it. _Everyone_.

At least, they do openly.

"Should I ask what they're betting about," Kevin says dryly. "Or is it obvious?"

Mike leers at his ceiling. He knows that tone of voice - it doesn't matter that that voice is coming from a Jonas or Pete. "You know it. I'm fairly certain Gabe has five hundred riding on the two of us hooking up again before we hit Dallas."

"That's in two days," Kevin says.

Mike pauses. "I don't even know how you know that." Mike barely remembers what month it is.

Kevin hums under his breath. "We don't have a lot of time to put anything together."

"And just what are you planning, kid?"

Kevin chuckles. "Well, how would you like to earn some extra cash and get a little of our own back?"

"You are evil, Jonas," Mike says and Kevin laughs. "So. Justifiable homicide tabled for the moment?"

"For the moment," Kevin agrees. "Do you think you can get Gabe on our side?"

"Gabe?" Mike smiles at the unicorn-butterfly. It isn't a nice smile. "He will if he knows what's good for him."

|-|

Gabe, as it turns out, does know what is good for him.

Gabe wraps a long arm around Kevin's shoulders and pulls him tight against his side. "And this was all your idea, young man?"

Kevin rolls his eyes but grins at Mike. "What? Am I not allowed to be devious?"

Gabe laughs and plants a kiss square on top of Kevin's head. "Mike, you have to keep this one. I don't care what Billy says."

Mike smirks. "Yeah. I'll keep that in mind."

"So," Kevin says. "You good with the plan?"

"Good? Baby, I'm excellent," Gabe says. " _You_ won't even know what hit you."

|-|

Mike shoves at the door to no avail. It is well and truly locked. He can hear Gabe's laugh echoing down the hallway on the other side of the door, fading as Gabe hightails it out of the area. It doesn't matter that they planned for something to happen. Mike does not like that he has been locked in a small room by Gabe. It's like playing with fire - fun but really fucking dangerous.

"Son of a bitch!" Mike kicks at the door a last time for good measure, then turns around to survey the room.

The room turns out not to be so much a room as a closet. A janitor's closet. And Kevin's standing next to the mop and bucket and laughing his ass off.

"Yeah, yeah. Yuk it up, kid," Mike says. He crosses his arms over his chest as he leans against the door. "You don't know Gabe. He once locked Nate and Alex in a closet and _forgot about them_."

Kevin rolls his eyes and holds up his cell. "We do have cell service in here, Captain McNegativePants. So chill."

"Captain McNegativePants?" Mike asks. "Really?"

Kevin shrugs. "Shut up. It totally fits."

"This coming from the guy who, just last night, was threatening to kill his brothers because they were, oh, being your brothers," Mike says.

"Oh, and you were so smooth," Kevin returns. "'Talk to me, Kevin. Tell me what's going through your head. I don't want you to go to prison.'"

Mike shrugs. "You wouldn't do so well in prison, kid. You can't blame me for looking out for you."

"Yeah, sure." Kevin pushes aside the mop and bucket, reveling a battered desk shoved against the far wall. Kevin hops up on it and swings his feet back and forth. "Are we sure this isn't an office of some kind?"

Mike pointedly lets his eyes trail over the shelves full of chemicals and rags and toilet paper and the broom attached to the wall next to the mop and bucket. "Yeah. This place just screams office."

"Desk." Kevin even helpfully points at what he's sitting on.

"What? Janitor's don't have to do paperwork?"

Kevin rolls his eyes but doesn't answer right away. Instead, he watches his feet swing. Then he picks up a random pen and starts twirling it around his fingers. He starts to say something, but apparently thinks better of it, turning a word into a cough and rubbing at the back of his head.

Mike watches him fidget for a few minutes. When the silence starts to wear on his nerves, he snaps, "What?"

Kevin taps the pen against the side of the desk. "We're friends, right? I mean, I thought we were, Mike. So what's with..." He pauses and waves his hand around. "What's with all of this, I mean?"

"All of what? The cleaning supplies? I'm pretty sure that's what the janitors use to clean. This is their closet that Gabe so cleverly locked us in."

"First, they're called custodians. Second, I knew that. Third, you're avoiding the topic at hand! Again! Which is what I'm trying to talk to you about!" Kevin throws up his hands and gives Mike the nastiest exasperated glare he's ever received. And that's including Bill and three of Mike's ex-girlfriends.

Mike tilts his head to the side. "And the topic at hand is what? The custodians and their surprise desk? Us being friends? My kicking Gabe's ass straight to Jersey?"

"You are an asshole," Kevin says through gritted teeth.

"So I've heard." Mike nods. He's still a little weirded out by Kevin swearing but the exposure must be helping.

Kevin glares at Mike for another minute, and then he throws the pen down. "Are we friends or not?"

"Yeah, kid, we're friends."

"Are we the type of friends that are honest with each other?"

Mike blinks. "Yeah. Why wouldn't we be?"

Kevin waves the question off. "So if I asked you a question and I was being completely serious, you'd give me an honest and serious answer?"

"Sure," Mike says. He has a sinking feeling in his stomach that he isn't going to like what's coming but. He has been honest with Kevin from the start. Maybe not as forthcoming as Kevin would have liked, but honest. Mike isn't about to start lying to him.

"All right," Kevin says. He takes a deep breath, and then straightens his shoulders and looks Mike square in the eye. "Are you not interested in me? Like, as more than friends?"

Mike wonders if he should reconsider that whole not lying thing. "I wouldn't say I wasn't interested."

"Then why haven't we made out again?" Kevin asks. "You were pretty into it when it was happening, and then. BAM. Nothing." He pauses and bites his lip. "Do you not want to make out with me? Was I that bad?"

Mike shifts on his feet, and his hand finds its way to the back of his neck. That isn't a loaded question. No, not at all. Mike really wishes he was able to lie to Kevin. It'd certainly make the whole 'just friends' thing a lot fucking easier. "You weren't bad at it, kid. Trust me. And it isn't that I don't want to make out with you. Which is sort of the problem."

Kevin blinks. "Wait. I'm confused. If you want to make out with me, why aren't you making out with me? It isn't like I'd push you away. Heck, if I could figure out a way to jump you without half of my limbs ending up broken, I'd have done that weeks ago."

Mike grimaces. "That's sort of the problem."

Kevin holds up a hand. "So. You're saying that it's a problem that I want to make out with you and you want to make out with me. Um. Seems like all sides to this party are down with consenting, so what's the hold up?"

"We're friends, kid."

"Yeah, and?" Kevin asks. "I'm not sure how you made it to this point in your life without figuring this out, Mike, but sometimes friends make out with each other. That's sort of how relationships develop."

Mike stares at a bottle of bleach and squashes the urge to knock his head against the door. Mike hopes Kevin's made his peace with his younger brother because Joe is so dead. Right after Bill. And Gabe. "It's complicated."

"Uncomplicate it for me."

Bill is so a dead man walking. Mike can totally talk Patrick into filling in until TAI... can find a new singer. "It's Bill's fault."

Kevin blinks. Then he leans back with a smile. "Oh, I can't wait to hear this. Go on."

Mike sighs. At least no one else is around to hear him admit this shit. "He's stuck on this idea of you three being pure and innocent and shit. Puppies and unicorns were mentioned. He's really against the idea of pure shit being tampered with. He honestly thinks bad things will happen if shit gets tampered with."

"Bill Beckett thinks me and my brothers are all pure and innocent like unicorns." Kevin repeats. He sounds baffled. And a little annoyed. "And that bad stuff will happen if we stop being unicorn-like." He pauses, rubbing a hand over his face. "What the heck does he think will happen? Is the sky going to fall? Is the moon going to explode? Are teenagers going to stop listening to music their parents don't like?"

"He didn't really specify," Mike says. He pauses. In for a penny, Carden, he thinks. "Actually, he's mostly implied that all of last week was my fault because we made out like a couple of horny teenagers."

Kevin's mouth falls open as he stares at Mike. Then he blinks. And starts laughing. And he keeps laughing, right up to the point that Mike thinks he's going to fall off the desk. He doesn't, but it was a close thing.

"You are an idiot," Kevin says as he wipes tears from his eyes. His sounds ridiculously fond, though, and he's smiling his million watt smile at Mike. "Really. An idiot."

Mike blinks, and then he narrows his eyes. "Really. Tell me how you really feel."

"Okay." Kevin smirks and hops off of the desk. "You are an idiot, and Beckett is _insane_. Last week sucked, yes, but that has everything to do with tour stuff and nothing to do with my family's mythical 'pureness'. Let's see, what happened again? Oh, right. Dad scheduled two interviews for the same time but forgot to write one down. We had to work the second one in the next morning at, like, five, but that was fine. Did you know that the morning crew at the radio station in Dacula is hilarious and knows every Chipmunk song by heart?"

"No, I hadn't realized that."

"And then there was that meet and greet." Kevin picks up a scrubbing brush and looks at the bristles. He grimaces and puts it back down quickly. "So this twelve year old asked me a stupid question. It was completely homophobic, and I doubt that she knew enough to actually mean anything by it, but that shit pisses me off. I snapped at her, she cried, I got yelled at by both her mom and mine, which _sucked_. Mom still hasn't really forgiven me but whatever." Kevin waves a hand through the air. "That stuff happens. My family should realize that just because I'm not out-out doesn't mean that I'm going to sit quietly in a corner."

Mike blinks. Well, that was forward.

"Then there was a screw up with equipment. One of the locals put some of Panic's stuff in our trailer," Kevin laughs. "Dude, you should have seen Spencer and Nick snipping at each other. It was like a showdown at the Alamo! Hi-larious."

Mike takes a second to think that over. Spencer and Nick, both in those stupid cowboy hats, hands on hips and glaring at each other. Hilarious is definitely the word for it.

"And finally, Kalvin, our guitar tech? Is a moron," Kevin says. "One of the other techs bet him a hundred dollars to eat some bad Chinese food. Idiot ended up with food poisoning, and Mom and Nick yelling at him."

"Not really worth a hundred bucks," Mike says. He's had bouts of food poisoning. He wouldn't go through that again for five hundred dollars and a vacation somewhere warm with abundant alcohol.

As he'd been explaining, Kevin had walked across the closet. He's standing in front of Mike with his hands on his hips and he's smiling. "So, in conclusion, you are an idiot, and Beckett is delusional." He follows that up by poking Mike in the chest.

"Yeah, I'm getting that," Mike says. He swats Kevin's hand away, but Kevin catches it in his own.

He tugs Mike's hand a little but Mike isn't going to move. "Question: Why the heck did you listen to Bill anyway?"

"Bill can be persuasive," Mike says. The kid has a grip like steel.

"Uh-huh. So is Joe but you don't see me wearing gold sequin vests as a valid fashion choice," Kevin says. "Seriously. Why?"

Mike shrugs. "Would you believe me if I said you looked like you needed a friend more than a fuck buddy?"

Kevin stares at him for a second before he laughs again. "Aw! Mike Carden, you are a secret romantic! That is adorable!"

Mike scowls at him and tries to tug his hand away again. Kevin doesn't let him go. Instead he uses the tugging to lightly press himself up against Mike.

"I'm going to let you in on a little secret, Mike," Kevin says. He pushes himself up the extra inch to reach Mike's ear. Mike's other hand automatically grabs Kevin's hip to keep him steady. "I like romantic morons."

"Really."

"Really, really. That's part of why Danielle and I didn't work out," Kevin says. He pulls back just enough to look Mike in the eye. "She's way too smart for me."

Mike feels a smirk coming on. "Lucky me."

"You have no idea." Kevin smirks right back at him. He lets go of Mike's hand and slides both of his around Mike's neck. "And now we're going to stop talking and start making out. I give Nick and Bill another twenty minutes before they get where we are out of Gabe."

"And if I think that's a bad idea?" Mike asks. He slides his now free hand around to the small of Kevin's back, pulling Kevin flush against him.

Kevin snorts. "Please. We've already established that you're an idiot. Now shut up and kiss me." He tugs Mike down before he has a chance to answer.

Mike laughs into the kiss. He can agree with that.


End file.
